by Adam Gaffen
“And we’re sure she wasn’t hurt?” asked Pitt. She’d absorbed both Intelligence posts to go with her role in Justice, after recovering from her bout of vacuum sickness.
“The doctors have given her multiple all-clears. I hate to say this, but it may have been too much for her. One too many disasters, one too many problems. I don’t know what to do.” This last was a small untruth; she knew exactly what to do, it was simply a matter of timing.
“What’s our next move?” said Kreitzer.
“It all keys on the al-Battani returning on schedule on the 14th,” Phalkon said. “How many of the Scorpions did we lose?”
“A dozen are unflyable, but we can use them for parts and perhaps get four or five reconstructed. We still have over ninety and production is starting again.”
“Excellent work, Kreitzer! And the mines?”
“All emplaced.”
“The Martian fleet?”
“En route on a ballistic arc from the North of the ecliptic, out of the normal shipping routes. Unless one of their ships stumbles upon them, they’ll arrive on schedule and undetected.”
“And the BZ?”
“I have to go by Atkinson’s files.”
Phalkon nodded. Her plan had so many elements and such a great time delay built in that coordinating was a nightmare. But, on the positive side, once a piece was set in motion it became almost impossible to recall if the participants grew reluctant.
Or dead.
Kreitzer was continuing. “The gas was installed on a cargo vessel and dispatched. Their flight plan, filed and authorized, brought them to Mars and will have them stop at Tycho Under on the 13th. They’ll refuel and offload their cargo, including the BZ, before departing on the 14th. The BZ is pressurized; at nine hundred on the 14th a switch will be triggered and the gas released into circulation. By noon there won’t be anything alive in Tycho not wearing a suit.”
“Danna? Did you contact our remaining asset in the Federation?”
“The one you passed on to me? Yes. He’s agreeable and has put all the means in place to cripple their intelligence gathering.”
“He can’t manage their command and control?”
Pitt shook her head. “He doesn’t have access. He’s tried, but the scope of his position doesn’t grant him clearance.”
“Pity. Well, we’ll take what we can get. How soon can he execute?”
“He just needs the direction.”
Phalkon considered the timing. “Do it today. With any luck they’ll be so concerned internally they’ll lose focus on the external.”
“I’ll tell him as soon as we’re done.”
Phalkon looked at her two fellow Councilors. “I am glad it was you two who survived. I don’t think Artemis could have survived without the stability you’ve brought to your posts these past days. And in a half-Lunar, Artemis will once again be supreme in the System.”
“AND YOU THINK I’m insane? This isn’t a plan, it’s suicide!”
“It’s unexpected and that’s a basic tenet of warfare!”
Kendra held up a hand, stopping the discussion for a moment.
“Let me see if I understand this correctly. You want us to send most of our Marines, plus whatever ground forces we can conjure up from the wannabe Revolutionaries in Tycho Under, marching up the tubes that connect to Artemis City. You believe they’ll react by committing their ground forces to counter our assault, at which time we drop the rest of our Marines in Wolves on the Government Complex. We blast our way in and capture the Empress and whatever Councilors we can and force them to end the war. And meanwhile our Direwolves and starships are busy blowing the Union ships into plasma.”
“More or less, yes,” agreed Whitmore.
“Admiral,” Diana said.
“Don’t tell me the odds, Diana.”
“Certainly not, Admiral. However, Admiral Whitmore’s plan has a greater chance for success than any other scenario currently under consideration and in a far shorter time span.”
“How short?”
Whitmore answered.
“We can have the troops assembled in three days, moving in four. It’s a fair distance, about five hundred kilometers, but they ought to be able to cover it in six days. Five if pressed.”
Kendra frowned. “Your math doesn’t work; you’re talking over 80 kilometers a day.”
“An easy pace on Luna. March for two hours, rest a half hour, do that for 12 ½ hours and then stop for the night, and they can easily cover ten kilometers an hour. If they fall behind they can add another two hour march to make up the distance, or they can add onto each of the first five days so the final day is even shorter. Trust me, Kendra, it works. And the Marines, remember, they were Union Marines not too long ago. I know their training, and hundred kilometer runs weren’t uncommon.”
“You are the expert,” Kendra admitted. “If you say they can do it, I have to trust you. Are you sure they won’t run into issues in the tubes? Crowding? Blockages?”
“All the readings we received before Mike went offline showed the tubes open the full length,” said Diana. Mike had been silent since the attack. At first Mac thought he’d been crippled by the EMP burst but had ruled it out when other systems had been restored. She was still working on him and with him, but although she could get basic functions to respond the self-aware core of his personality was still absent.
“Even without Mike we can seize control of the tube hatches and prevent Artemis from doing anything to stop our progress,” Diana continued. “We can also spoof their internal sensors to hide our troops.”
“And the drop on the Complex?”
“We’re going to hold onto one platoon of Marines, whoever Sergeant Wulfow recommends, and land them on the surface by the emergency evacuation points. We’re going to supplement with a couple of the veterans of the Titan mission from OutLook.”
“Who’s leading this?”
Whitmore looked away. “I’m planning on leading.”
“Hell no! You’re the Federation’s military leader, and you’re not expendable!”
“You have a better idea? Who do you have who knows the Complex better than me? Oak and ash, do you think I want to do this? And don’t suggest you do the drop, either. If I’m not expendable neither are you!”
“Crozier. And Taylor, too. They both have years in service, maybe not as high up as you but they both worked in the Complex for a long time.”
“Your suggestion is sound, Admiral,” Diana said. “Both have also proven resourceful under stressful circumstances.”
“Good. Davie?”
“If I can’t go, Nicole’s a good choice.”
“Are we launching this from here or from Tycho?”
“Tycho. Easier to coordinate if all the assets are in a single location.”
“So we’ll need Cris to get her OutLook people to Luna. Diana, bring her in on this.”
Montana’s voice said, “Hey, Kendra. What’s going on?”
“I was talking with –” was as far as she got before Montana interrupted her.
“Hold on. Colin? What’s going on?”
Dent’s voice was indistinct.
“No, now’s not a good time.”
More mumbling.
“I think this will be quick, and then, wait, what are you do—”
Montana’s words cut off.
A fraction of a second later alarms started wailing, then a rumbling shook the compartment.
“Damage control personnel to posts,” Diana’s voice said, distantly.
“Diana, report!” snapped Kendra.
“Explosion in Director Montana’s office, source unknown, damage unknown. Sensors offline for sector fourteen, decks two, three, and four. Pressure bulkheads breached, no loss of atmospheric integrity. Automatic systems restoring backups. Fires and damage reported, suppression systems activated. Damage control personnel converging.”
Kendra focused on a single word. “Explosion?”
“Confirmed.�
��
“Oh, no. No, no, no. Not Cris. No, not Cris!”
CHAPTER TWELVE
TFS Defiant; TFS Defender II; TFS Enterprise
Stardate 12009.05
“I’ll be happy to be home.”
“You and the rest of the crew,” Chloe said, re-entering the bridge and surprising Ensign Skaggs.
“Ma’am, yes, Ma’am, no disrespect.”
“None taken. Relax, Michele. It’s been a hell of a mission, and a tribute to all of you we’re in as good shape as we are.”
Nine more days. According to all their calculations, they’d be back home in nine days, after a journey of something over 170 light years and by far the longest deployment of any ship in Starfleet’s admittedly-brief history. Personally, she was looking forward to some time looking at something, anything, besides the corridors and compartments of her ship. Though she doubted she’d get anything resembling leave, at least not immediately. She was certain they’d need an overhaul before their next deployment.
Ah, well. It would give her and Captain Orloff plenty of time to discuss changes to their operational patterns to ensure another Defiant-class wasn’t caught unprepared.
“Captain!”
She swiveled to her Tactical officer. “What is it, Wilder?”
“The al-Battani, their speed is dropping! Down to warp 3.9 and still falling. Curve looks steady.”
It took a moment for the information to process, then she reacted.
“Skaggs, match their speed! Wilder, bring the weapons and shields online. All hands, battle stations!”
Huff was on the bridge moments after the klaxons sounded and settling next to his Captain.
“What’s going on?”
“We might have a chance to end this damned chase,” she said. “They’re falling out of warp. Rio, do you have any idea why?”
“Analysis of Lieutenant Wilder’s sensor readings suggest they have suffered a partial drive failure due to failures in power delivery.”
“Can you elaborate?”
“Theoretically only, Captain. If a ship in warp was to lose power gradually then the maximum warp bubble which would be generated would decrease. This in turn would result in lower speeds. However, we are at too great a range to provide definitive evidence.”
“Speculate.”
“According to Ms. Crozier, the Scimitar-class ships were retrofitted with upgraded power couplings at the time of the warp drive installation. It is possible a coupling failed, increasing stress on the remaining ones, leading to another failure, and so on.”
“Warp 1.5, Captain. Estimate 60 seconds to emergence,” Wilder announced.
“And where the hell will we be?”
Skaggs said, “Approximately 33 light years from Sol. Closest star will be Fomalhaut, roughly 9 light years distant.”
“Fine. Stand by on the lasers. I don’t want to get up close and personal with them.”
“Standing by.”
“Rio, as soon as we’re out of warp I want a channel to that ship.”
“Understood, Captain.”
“Ten seconds to emergence.”
The last few seconds crawled past. For four weeks they’d been in the unreality of warp space, the universe a blur, save for a few hours spent swapping crystals. Now their long mission was finally, possibly, coming to an end and time seemed to slow to a stop.
“Emergence,” Skaggs said an eternity later.
“al-Battani on sensors, 0.4 AU distant.”
Exiting warp was a precision maneuver, but all helm operators and navigators were trained to provide for plenty of room unless ordered otherwise.
“Damn. Ensign, set course to intercept, full sublight.”
“Aye, Ma’am. Intercept course, full sublight, executing.”
“Rio, start broadcasting our identification and demand they stand down.” At 80% of light, the message would arrive forty seconds before they did, but if their captain were smart he wouldn’t push the issue.
“We have lock,” Wilder said. Firing now wouldn’t make sense, as lasers were light-speed weapons, but it was good to know the option was available.
“Two minutes to intercept.”
“Adjust course to put us 100,000 klicks off their stern,” Chloe ordered. She imagined, more than actually felt, the starship swoop on its path to come to her desired heading.
“Smart,” agreed Huff. “Minimize their targeting opportunities.”
Scimitars were heavily armed, but the majority of their weaponry was arrayed in broadsides and powerful forward lasers. Their stern was much less threatening, especially to the Federation’s starships. They also mounted missiles, but missiles were functionally dead in this new era of warfare; they simply hadn’t gotten the message yet.
“We’re taking fire,” Wilder said. “Shields holding.”
“At this distance?” Chloe questioned.
“They’re desperate,” Huff said, his prior service in the Artemis Navy coming to the fore. “They know full well what we can do to them if we close the range and are hoping for a lucky hit.”
“Range?”
“Point one AU; call it fifteen million klicks. Intercept in 45 seconds.”
“Incoming message,” Rio announced before playing it.
“TFS Defiant, this is Captain Michael Olesen of the Union of Artemis Starship al-Battani. We have suffered a major power failure and request assistance.”
Chloe laughed grimly. “Rio, channel open. Captain Olesen, Captain Chloe Resler of the Defiant. You probably should have thought of that before opening fire. Surrender and we may render assistance.”
“Message sent.”
Twenty-five seconds for the message to arrive, and they’d be on top of them ten seconds after that. Not much time for Olesen to decide.
“Still taking fire. They’re getting a bit more accurate.”
“Wilder, can you target their aft laser ports from here?”
“Not entirely accurately,” she said.
“Pity. Skaggs, start rolling us around the base course, give them something to think about. Random distances and angles.”
“Aye, Ma’am.” The ship began to move erratically, throwing off accuracy of the Union gunners, and the stars danced on the screen.
“Rio, lock the viewscreen on the target, otherwise someone’s going to get sick.”
“Captain Resler, we require assistance!” Olesen demanded.
“Then stop firing and surrender. Simple.”
“Ten seconds to intercept.”
“I have their lasers locked.”
“Take them out, Lieutenant.”
The al-Battani had been firing a pair of 2 megawatt chase lasers at the Defiant. Lieutenant Wilder had four fixed-mount 2 petawatt lasers, which were not precision instruments, and a single targetable 8 petawatt laser, which was. Two quick bursts and the al-Battani’s chase lasers were eliminated. Two more bursts and the after missile tubes were so much scrap as well.
“Approaching intercept point.”
“Slow to zero relative speed and maintain distance.” At this range the light-speed lag in communications was only a third of a second; effectively real-time.
“Rio, give me visual.”
The screen flickered and then turned neutral as they awaited the response signal from the al-Battani. It wasn’t a long wait; a man in a severe black uniform, presumably the captain, appeared in the foreground. While they blurred out details, the sounds still filtered through and Chloe could hear the hoot of alarms and urgent voices.
“Captain Olesen. Since you weren’t listening, we decided to knock. Did we get your attention?”
“You had no right to fire on a Union ship!”
“Oh, get stuffed! A state of war exists between our countries, a fact which you demonstrated by opening fire upon us. Or was that an act of piracy, unsanctioned by your government? Be careful how you answer.”
“We requested assistance before we opened fire, purely in defense!”
“
Interesting defense. Let’s imagine how it plays out: ‘We sent a light-speed message out, then started firing when they didn’t reply because the laws of physics don’t apply in interstellar space.’ No, I don’t think you’ll do well with it. Care to try again? Or should we cut the crap?”
The pale face went red, then blanched as he flashed through anger to realization of his hopeless position.
“Fine. What do you require for your assistance?”
“Your surrender. Simple, easy; even a Union puke can’t screw it up.”
“I am not authorized to surrender.”
“Fine. You have two minutes to evacuate.”
“We’re in deep space! It’s a death sentence!”
“Two minutes. Out.”
She looked into the horrified face of her XO. “Relax, Rob. I’m not going to leave them for dead. Wilder.”
“Ma’am?”
“Call up the schematics we got from Crozier. Put them on the screen.”
Before the view changed they could see escape pods popping out of the dreadnought.
“Highlight their power plants, and then their warp drive.”
The power plants came up first, most in yellow for the fusion reactors, scattered throughout the ship. Then the antimatter reactors, highlighted orange, appeared, in the after third. Finally the warp drive appeared in blue, near the center of the vessel.
“Can you target the warp drive precisely enough to knock it out without blowing the ship to hell and back?”
“Maybe with Rio’s assistance I can. It’s going to require precise station-keeping, variable power on the laser; Rio? Can we do it?”
“I believe so,” said the AI, and there was only muttered comments from Tactical as they planned.
“Ready, Captain.”
“Rio, open a channel.”
The image of Olesen appeared again.
“What now, murderer? Everyone who wished to die in deep space has abandoned ship; the rest of us will die here.”
“Clear out your warp drive compartment and the compartments directly below. Now.”
“So they have a few seconds longer to live?”
“No,” snarled Chloe, all patience lost. “Because I’m not going to kill you, even though I ought to rid the universe of your idiocy!”